


I could tell you wanted it all

by cobblestaubrey



Category: Canada's Drag Race RPF, RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Band Fic, F/F, Not Really lol, Sort Of, but close enough, multiple one shots, series of stories that don't connect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28176195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobblestaubrey/pseuds/cobblestaubrey
Summary: "You know we fell in the fallI could tell you wanted it all"
Relationships: Juice Boxx/Lemon (Drag Race), Nicky Doll/Rock M Sakura, Rock M Sakura/Jan Sport/Nicky Doll, okay that’s not a ship here yet so here ya go
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	1. You know we fell in the fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Winterboxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterboxx/gifts).



> This is my fic for atresia's fic exchange, for winterboxx!! I'm really glad I got winter bc they're a g and I love their work, and I hope they like this!!

_“You’ll be there tomorrow, yeah?” Juice had asked, looking between Lemon’s eyes._

That voice echoes through Lemon’s mind as she watches Juice take the stage one more time, letting her guitar hang from its strap loosely around her neck. Her Doc Martin’s slam into the floor, echoing around the bar. 

_“Of course,” Lemon had been looking forward to this for weeks, but she’d never tell Juice that._

_If it weren’t so dark, even with the streetlights illuminating Juice’s face, Lemon would be more certain about if Juice was blushing. “Cool,” she whispered._

Juice moves a strand of her pink hair away from her eyes, reaching up with her other hand to grip the microphone. 

“This last song means, uh, a lot to me. So, here it is.” 

_"'Cause I'm performing this song I wrote-"_

_"You wrote another?" Lemon asked excitedly, bouncing on the toes of her boots._

Despite having been on stage tens and tens of times before, Juice is still as awkward as ever when she’s not playing her guitar or singing. Her anxiety prickles underneath her skin, Lemon can see it, like static electricity from the crowd. 

She steps away form the microphone, and Lemon subconsciously leans forward, her eyes wide.

_"Yeah, and it... Just, I hope you like it."_

Juice taps her boots, until the drummer - Kyne - starts tapping out the beat with her drumsticks. The pink-haired girl takes an audible breath into the microphone, before she starts singing, playing her rhythm guitar expertly.

_"Of course, Juicey, I love all your songs."_

_It was rare she could make Juice flush, but the red that kissed the woman's cheeks was a welcomed, yet confusing surprise._

Lemon holds her breath as Juice begins singing into the microphone, annunciating every word in the same way one would write a love letter. Juice needs the world to hear these lyrics.

Juice needs _Lemon_ to hear this.

_“Green eyes, summer night_

_You and I met for the first time_

_Took it slow, I was on a roll_

_But I didn't know if you were ready to go”_

_“Hey,” Lemon heard behind her. Her eyes stayed glued on her notebook, the words all blurring together, knowing that the coffee in her left hand was doing nothing to keep her awake. Her sophomore year had only just begun, but it was ravaging her sleep schedule._

_She tensed, unsure of who was there, but she responded smoothly, anyway. “Hello?”_

_Suddenly, the booth across from her in the diner was filled, and when she looked up, she saw that girl - that girl she always sort of knew, but never really knew at all._

_“Julia?”_

_“Juice,” she gave Lemon a lopsided smile. “Luisa?”_

_Lemon could barely hide her cheeky grin. “Lemon.” She laughed, reaching out her hand to shake Juice’s._

_Juice looked at her hand and raised an eyebrow, her eyes flickering back and forth between that and Lemon’s eyes. She reluctantly took it._

_“That was weird, wasn’t it?” Lemon laughed again, feeling her skin warm up._

_Juice shrugged, turning back to look straight out. “Yeah, well, I’m a stranger that just stole your booth. This whole thing’s weird.” She looked away, reaching over to look at her reflection in the metal napkin dispenser. “Thanks, by the way. For letting me sit here. It’s a long story”_

_Juice would later explain that she was there to escape her mother, who had cornered her in her dorm room. Lemon hadn’t asked in the moment, though._

_Instead, Lemon pushed forward her basket of fries that had been wholly untouched, watching as Juice’s eyes lit up, even behind layers of eyeliner and mascara._

_Lemon should have minded that this girl that she barely knew had wormed her way into her study time, but something about her small grin, and her unkempt pink hair had Lemon wanting to know more._

The blonde thinks back to that, wondering if Juice always knew she meant something to Lemon, even when Lemon didn’t know. 

Juice’s eyes are closed now as the song picks up, hitting the chorus. Kyne is smashing into the drums, hitting every beat with a fire in her eyes and hands, but Juice’s voice stays deep enough to stay quiet. 

Juice doesn’t know it, but her stage presence is absolutely mesmerizing. It’s clear that the bassline shoots through her veins, as she rocks back and forth to the beat. Sometimes, she’ll let go of the neck of her guitar, reaching forward to grip the microphone stand with her hand.

It really is _mesmerizing_. 

_“And we were kicking our feet together_

_You know we fell in the fall_

_And you were looking at me in my sweater_

_I could tell you wanted it all”_

_Lazy afternoons lying on Juice’s bed were Lemon’s favorite way to spend Sundays._

_Golden hour hazed through the window, kissing Lemon’s cheeks gently, warming her up the same way Juice’s head on her lap did, as well._

_“What’re you looking at?” Juice mumbled, rubbing her face gently with her sleeve. It was unnecessarily adorable, how soft Juice looked in the light, the tension on her face dissipated._

_It had been only weeks since Juice had slipped into that booth, but Lemon had already tripped and fallen and hit her head and ended up in some sort of Wonderland with her._

_Lemon opened her mouth to respond, shaking her head gently. “Just…” her eyes fluttered around Juice’s face, her open mouth turning into an adoring smile. “Your sweater.”_

_“Cool, right?” Juice reached for the hem, straightening out the sweater for Lemon to see every detail of her favorite band’s emblem._

_“I’m cold.”_

_Juice snorted. It was warm in Lemon’s room, unnecessarily warm, but neither said anything about that. Instead, Juice reached for the hem of her sweater, sitting up to bring it above her head._

_Lemon’s eyes lingered on the sliver of skin she could see between Juice’s t-shirt hem and the waist of her pants, until Juice twisted her body to hand Lemon the sweater._

_“Here you go, Princess.”_

_Juice let a smirk paint her lips, the same she gave to Lemon whenever the two were too close. In just her t-shirt, Lemon could see Juice’s arm muscles tensing as she leaned forward, her face only a foot or so away from Lemon’s._

_She wanted to reach forward and cup Juice’s cheek, rub her thumb on her cheek, tilt her head and kiss her._

_But she was too slow, too cautious, so Juice’s face did what it always did; her smile slipped, so suddenly, her eyes flashed with fear, before they turned colder. She quickly moved her arm, laying back down so that her eyes could be glued to the ceiling rather than the look on Lemon’s face._

_She was scared of something, but what were the odds they could be afraid of the same thing?_

Lemon likes to think she knows Juice better than anyone, especially in the way that her legs shake when her anxiety has ridden up her spine.

Then, without warning, Juice looks ups, letting her eyes scan the crowd.

Her eyes meet Lemon’s as she sings, making every single one of Lemon’s childhood movie dreams come true. 

_“It was like a dream the way you sang to me_

_I fell in love through your words and your melody”_

She gasps, but no one can hear her, obviously. She has loved Juice, probably since the day she met her.

But she promises every other weekend, that she’ll stay quiet. She can’t lose Juice, after everything. After the nights and days, the evenings and mornings.

_"Who do you write your songs about?"_

_"Someone special."_

Tonight, Juice has told an upwards of a hundred people - basically the world, in Lemon’s mind - that Lemon is that someone special. 

_“And you were looking at me in my sweater_

_I could tell you wanted it off”_

_“You’ll be there tomorrow, yeah?” Juice had asked_.

_She had looked so nervous, yet hopeful, and if Lemon ever had a doubt, it was gone in that instant._

Then, as soon as it started, the song is over.

Some other band is pushing Juice and her friends off stage, but Lemon can’t really see any of it. Her eyes are completely focused on Juice, whose own eyes are glued to the floor. 

Lemon fell in love so hard, she knew she was never coming back up.

But Juice did, too.

Juice fell in love with her, too.

Lemon watches her trudge off the stage, her eyes lingering on the ankle of Juice’s boot, to the flannel tied around her waist, to the look of determination in her eyes. 

“Juice,” she lets herself breathe out, feeling Juice’s fingers meet her hips. She reaches up her arms to put them over Juice’s shoulders, feeling like a sixteen year old all over again at her junior prom. They’re not swaying to some sappy song, though, because there’s nothing else around them.

The dim light of the bar barely lights up Juice’s face, but her blue eyes are as clear as the moon. 

Then, there’s that lopsided smile again. Juice is so bashful, it makes Lemon gasp under her breath. “I love you,” she says, and it’s strong, even though it’s quiet. 

Lemon wants to cry, or laugh, or fall to the ground with how her knees are shaking. 

She does none of that, though. She only nods, biting her lip. “I love you, too. I have since forever.” It’s dorky, and cliche, but Juice feels like a staple in her life like no other.

“I don’t think you’ve known me _that_ long,” Juice laughs, but her eyes are glossy and her cheeks are red. 

Lemon shrugs. “It feels like it, though, right?” She doesn’t wait for a response before leaning forward to kiss Juice the way she always has wanted to.

Suddenly, it feels like she finally has it all.


	2. I need a miracle to get away from you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “One day, I’ll write some hit song about you and we’ll be number one on the charts,” she gave Nicky a small, lopsided smile, before looking up at the ceiling to let the imagery play out on the plaster. “But for now, it’s just me, you, and the tables I gotta clean up after some Karin’s spill their afternoon margarita.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second part of three of the fic exchange stories I wrote for winterboxx, they are not set in the same universe but they focus on music and bands and stuff sooo yeah LOL
> 
> This one has flashbacks as well, but all of the flashbacks are in reverse chronological order because that's cool LOL 
> 
> It's based on "St. Patrick" by PVRIS

Rock comes off the stage that night with a hollow head and hollow heart, wondering why every night has to be about Nicky. 

Her drums took a real beating, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t jammed out so harshly before, but this time she could feel the tension in every kick and the heartbreak with every snare. 

She lets herself ride out her wave of adrenaline as Jan goes off to do whatever she does after their sets, wishing that things could have been different for just one night. 

_ “Where’s Nicky?” Jan asked innocently, looking around the bar after their performance weeks ago.  _

_ Rock shrugged, staring into her glass and wishing that someone would come and save her from this.  _

_ Someone like Nicky. _

_ “Is she coming?”  _

_ She squeezed her glass tighter and her eyes closed, wondering how someone so extroverted could be unable to read the room. “I don’t know, Jan.” Every word hit harshly against her chest. _

_ Jan nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving Rock’s face. She could feel it in her peripheral, the blonde’s worried gaze trailing over her face.  _

_ Rock sighed, letting the buzzing of the bar cover the sound of her beating heart. _

_ “She’s gone.” _

There’s a drink for her ready at the bar, but she wants to find her own way home tonight, so she declines it, making a b-line for the exit before anyone can stop her. Jaida’s putting away her bass and Crystal’s probably already got three girls lined up tonight for her choosing, so it’s easy to slip away.

The short sleeves of her shirt do little to kill the nipping wind, but the high whistles that string the streets blend in with the ringing that’s still in her ears. She fears one day the ringing won’t stop, but she still takes the risk every time she’s on that stage.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket maybe six times before she reaches the front stoop of her apartment building, but her fingers are shaking, and she knows she’d never be able to type in her passcode. Instead, she picks up her feet, step by step, trudging up a few flights of stairs because the shitty landlord still won’t pay to repair the elevator. It’s night like these, she wonders what else she could be doing with her life. 

It’s not that she doesn’t absolutely adore her band, or the stage, or the crowd, but the thought that her twenties are being wasted creeps up on her time and time again.

_ “Don’t go.” Her voice was layered with annoyance, but it cracks at the end, betraying her. _

_ Nicky is worlds away, standing a foot or so away from the door. Her hand itched at her side to grab the handle, but she continued staring at Rock, confused, irritated, heartbroken. “What is your problem?” _

_ “I need you,” Rock hiccuped, taking a few steps forward to reach for Nicky’s hand. The taller girl pulled away, poison on the tip of her tongue, but Rock wouldn’t hear it. “I need you, more- more than you need me.” _

_ Nicky continued stepping back, shaking her head and trying her best to ward Rock off. “I am not going to save you,” she whispered. _

Rock scoffs at herself, her hand shaking a little too much for her to put the key in her door. She kicks against the base of it, instead, before turning around and letting herself slide down the wood. With her head in her hands, she thinks that maybe things have gone a little too far for a little too long. 

Nicky lights something in her after all of these months that she shouldn’t, and douses that flame when she isn’t there. 

She looks out into the crowd every night, trying to catch a glimpse of blonde hair in front of the backdrops of glass bottles and faded lights, but she knows she’s only fooling herself. Nicky is long gone, like everything else she’s ever loved too much.

_ She was laughing, which made her happier than she had been in weeks. The fights were getting longer and more frequent, piercing little holes in her heart. It made it hard to breathe, but she pushed through, basking in the little happiness that was left.  _

_ “Honestly, screw him,” Nicky smiled, elbowing Rock gently in the side. “You don’t need that.” _

_ Rock shrugged, reclining back to rest her head against her pillows. “I need the money.” _

_ “You’ve got bigger dreams than waitressing for tips and verbal abuse.” Nicky said, making it sound so devastatingly simple that Rock couldn’t help but believe her. _

_ “Those dreams don’t pay the bills,” she bit her cheek, watching Nicky’s brows lower in concentration.  _

_ “I guess so.” _

_ “One day, I’ll write some hit song about you and we’ll be number one on the charts,” she gave Nicky a small, lopsided smile, before looking up at the ceiling to let the imagery play out on the plaster. “But for now, it’s just me, you, and the tables I gotta clean up after some Karen’s spill their afternoon margarita.” _

_ Nicky laughed again, letting Rock wrap her arm around her to pull her close. “One day.”  _

She picks herself back up, like she always does, because she’s not falling asleep outside of her own damn apartment. Her roommate is somewhere else, always is, but it means that Rock doesn’t have to quiet the stomping of her boots.

She lets her sadness dissolve into anger, and then back into sadness when she hits her bedroom and wishes someone else was on the other side of her bed. 

Her phone buzzes one more time, and she has to change anyway, so she reluctantly fishes it out of her jeans. The pockets are obnoxiously big but it’s funnier that way and it keeps her from taking things too seriously in the end. 

Three texts from Jan, from twenty minutes or so after she left the bar, three from that one groupie who follows them to every bar, and two from Jaida, which she actually bothers to read. 

_ [12:48 AM] _

_ dont be doing anything stupid _

_ [12:55 AM] _

_ im here for you _

Rock chuckles lightly at it, wishing she could love herself like they love her. 

Wishing she could love herself like she loves Nicky, even though she shouldn’t. That love wouldn’t be that great either.

Sometimes Rock didn't really understand what Jaida meant about pedestals and high expectations, but the crashing and burning after one pillar tips and knocks the rest over like dominos, _that_ she gets. 

_ “How long have you been playing?” Nicky circled her straw around her drink, leaning forward slightly, letting her perfume swarm the air around Rock.  _

_ “Since I could pull the pots and pans out of the kitchen cabinets,” she answered honestly, letting the sound of Nicky’s laugh reverberate through her ribs.  _

_ Rock wasn’t sure how she got there or why Nicky was giving her the time of day, but it made her feel invincible in a way she hadn’t felt since she was seventeen. _

_ Jan called her name, gesturing her over to stage, so Rock reluctantly pulled herself away, coming off the bar stool as elegantly as she could.  _

_ “I’ll see you around?” she half said, half asked, and Nicky rolled her eyes before grabbing Rock’s arm, pulling her close. _

_ In her other hand is her phone, and she pushed it into Rock’s own, telling her without words that this would not be the last time Rock saw her pretty face. _

_ “I’ll be watching,” Nicky’s cheeky grin was enough to power Rock through three songs, her heart racing. If this meant every song was a few beats too fast, well, that was the risk they all took in letting Rock make her own decisions. _

She still has the blonde’s number in some note document in her phone, hidden there for rainy days and pouring nights. 

A little voice in her head calls for her, tells her to get out of bed, take a shower, maybe do anything productive with the little time she has to herself. 

Her face is buried against her pillow, though, wishing everything in her life was different. Wishing that things didn’t take so long to fix, even if she wants to pretend they’re okay.

Nicky is gone, she tries to tell herself. Nicky did not fix her, she never could, and she never will. She’s probably halfway across town, in some other bar, moving on with her life and getting so drunk she won’t remember her own name, let alone Rock’s. 

Rock is stuck in her apartment, always on the left side of her bed, wondering who she could’ve been different.

_ “Who is that?” she asked, because she didn’t know better, and the blonde at the bar was leagues above any woman she had ever seen.  _

_ Jan shrugged, grabbing Jaida’s bass from the side of the stage, before passing it to the other woman. “I don’t know.” She had this scheming smile Rock knew all too well, passed off as innocent interest. “Why don’t you go ask?” _

_ “Nope.” Rock shook her head, sitting down to hide herself behind her cymbals and toms.  _

_ “Come on, you never try.” _

_ She laughed, spinning her drum sticks around her fingers. “I’m not making a fool out of myself.” _

_ “Where’s the fun in that?” Jan smirked, giving Rock a jovial eyebrow raise. “You never know. You could hit it off and go make some sweet, sweet music together.” _

_ Rock snorted, rolling her eyes. “That’d be a miracle.”  _

Suddenly, her eyes open, and she turns her head to the side so she can just barely see the outline of her window. 

She reaches over to her bedside table, letting her hand slap against the wood until she feels her phone. 

This won’t be a chart topper, she thinks, as she begins writing out lyrics that might not make sense in the morning, but she was right.

It will be about Nicky. 

Most things are, what's the harm in one more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on the third part but that probably won't be done til the 24th but yes here's this LOL


	3. Much as we try to pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jan's Jukebox is more than a band. It's an experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read through the meaning behind these lyrics and Paramore states this song is about moving past the past and telling fans and others to move on from the “Paramore soap opera”, so I thought it’d be super cool to write a story like this!
> 
> The person writing this interview is supposed to be unlikeable, I was writing this thinking “wow I hate this human”. 
> 
> I'm so, SO happy I got to write this for you Winter! You're an absolute baller and I love talking to you and hearing about your stories. I hope you enjoy!

**JAN’S JUKEBOX: FAST IN MY CAR  
** _ Samantha Irving _

_ Hello punk fans and Target shoppers with nothing better to do in line! Last night I conducted an interview with the band Jan’s Jukebox about their newest album and chart topper of the same name, “Fast In My Car”, an upbeat, punk rock, throwback to easier times and the rebellious attitudes of the early 2000s. _

_ The interview began with the three women having similar peppy attitudes, obviously feeding off of each other’s enthusiasm. Jan’s hand was in Nicky’s, which was a bit odd, but we moved past it quickly.  _

_ They cited their inspirations for their new album being early pioneers like The New York Dolls, as well as other girl groups like Bikini Kill and The Slits. _

_ However, this open and quirky attitude quickly faded once I began asking about the single. _

_ Lead singer Jan started us off, in true Jan Mantione fashion, with a bright smile about an even brighter idea: _

_ “We just wanted something about us, you know?”  _

_ A vague statement that no doubt had been given to her by their record label.  _

_ Rock Sakura, the spunky, lesser known member of the group, scoffed, earning two nervous glances from her bandmates. “That’s not really it.” _

_ Of course, this sounded promising, so I dug in for more, asking if the song’s meaning was really as clear as people believed. _

_ Blonde bombshell Nicky Doll, the bassist for this trio, decided to finally step in and answer. Prior to that, she had been cold, reserved, and noncommittal. With a thick, potentially faux-accent lacing her words, she explained that “It’s a message to our fans and haters.” _

_ Mantione, attempting damage control, quickly added, “We just wanted a break from, well, the whispers and the paparazzi. We wanted to move on from the past.” _

_ The ‘past’ being what happened after the release of their second album, where rumors had sparked about a relationship or two between the girls. _

_ On several occasions, Mantione was spotted with Sakura out in public, hands clasped together, or even with their lips locked. Other members of the press reported that Mantione and Sakura were both seen on separate occasions with Doll, sharing the same intimacy. It was unknown whether the three were aware of each other’s affairs, but they refused to comment on it when asked. _

_ Although there have been LGBTQ+ themes in their songs, they have never confirmed nor denied their sexualities (except Sakura, which you all probably expected by now). _

_ When I began to ask them about their potential (confirmed) infidelity, Doll began speaking under her breath in French, which would later be translated as, and I quote, _

_ “This bitch will never conduct an interview again when I’m done with her.” _

Jan pulls away from the magazine, just to stare at Nicky. “Why did you say that?”

The blonde bites her cheek, before shrugging apathetically. “Like anyone will care.”

Rock rolls her eyes, grabbing the magazine for herself. “I can’t believe they’re still printing this shit. Who reads magazines anymore?”

Jan swiftly takes it back. “Us. Now be quiet, we need to finish this.”

_ Sakura, clearly the most impulsive and loud out of this group (if there really is a decibel limit), speaks up again. It seems every time she speaks, the tension rises. She’s a ticking time bomb full of information she is not supposed to share, but will anyway. _

_ “I’m so sick of that. No one cheated on anyone.” _

_ Obviously, I’m the one with a degree in journalism, so I attempted to inform them of the several sightings from last year that would prove otherwise. Mantione, however, seemed to have finally snapped.  _

_ “It’s not cheating, it’s polyamory.” _

_ This is a word I was not familiar with, so while the other two girls gasped and began quietly discussing what they had just done, I stepped out to research the word on UrbanDictionary.  _

_ UrbanDictionary defines “polyamory” as “The practice, state or ability of having more than one sexual loving relationship at the same time, with the full knowledge and consent of all partners involved.” _

_ After a quick refresher on some of the longer words in that sentence, it appears we have our answer, folks! Jan’s Jukebox is not only a band, but a relationship between three women. What will the world think about this?  _

_ “We don’t care,” were the last words we heard from any of the three, and it came from Doll, who didn’t seem to care about anything, anyway. _

“Jesus Christ,” Rock laughs, looking at the other two girls with surprise. “Are we gonna get cancelled?”

“We’re already trending.” Twitter is open on Nicky’s phone, which she hands over to Rock to see. "But it's not because we're cancelled."

She gasps. “Holy fuck, number one on trending?”

Jan leans over Rock’s shoulder, squinting her eyes at the screen. “What are they saying?”

“Um,” she starts scrolling through, listing out names of people they’ll never meet, discussing their love life, just because. “‘Triple threat but the threats are just gay’, ‘Holy shit this is so cool, I knew I liked them for a reason’, ‘I can’t believe I had to find out Nicky is gay and taken on the same day #BestAndWorstDayEver’,” Rock laughs harder as the tweets go on, skipping over the bigots and their normal haters.

“So…” Nicky starts, painting a triumphant smirk on her face. “We’re about to double our  _ Spotify _ plays, right?”

“Oh gorge,” Jan starts, her hand over her mouth to cover her smile. “It looks like we already have.” She has her own phone open now, and  _ Fast in My Car _ is displayed, with three million more plays than it had the day before.

Rock is bursting with laughter, and it makes the other two join her. “How did she end the thing? The article?”

Jan opens up the magazine one last time, thumbing through it before she finds the last paragraph.

_ Despite their attitudes towards me, and their inability to stop talking about each other in order to answer my questions- _

“What the fuck, the interview was about us!”

_ -Jan’s Jukebox embodies the attitude of this generation and their music speaks levels. With their newly exposed secret, they might reach an even wider audience by inspiring and representing those who very rarely have the spotlight. _

_ Although some bands may be accused of creating fake relationships to boost sales, it became evident throughout the interview that these women share a deep bond and even deeper feelings.  _

“Aw,” Jan reached over to kiss Rock on the cheek, because it’s true, it all is. 

“I guess I’m glad that’s all cleared up,” Nicky says, reaching over to pluck the magazine out of Jan’s hands. “I never want to be in a room with that woman again.”

Watching Nicky walk over to recycle the magazine, Jan nods, maneuvering herself on the couch so her head is on Rock’s lap. “GLAAD is definitely getting her ass.”

Nicky comes back over, laughing, and lifts up Jan’s legs to place them on her own, so she can cuddle up to Rock’s side. Jan sighs, because she’s content, but things are going to be different, now. The whole world is going to know about how much she loves these two, it’s not their own little secret anymore. 

She can be in love and let everyone know.

Although, when she thinks about it, her world really isn't that big. It may just be two idiots she loves spending all of her time with.

But now she can write love songs, and tweets, and post cute  _ Instagram _ stories about the loves of her life, and it doesn’t matter how she words it or how safe they are, because everyone knows. She can post photos in their shared apartment, or when they’re out on dates, or when they visit each other’s families during holidays. 

That sounds a lot like freedom, she thinks, tracing the outlines of Rock's face as she gazes upwards. Nicky has that same, adoring smile she always has when Rock can't keep her giggles to herself, and the taller girl reaches forward to move a strand of Rock's hair out of her face. They smile at each other, before looking down at Jan, and the blonde knows she must have the most content smile on her face, because the other two mirror it seamlessly.

There's so much more they need to do before they're thrust onto the stage, performing in a different city every night. For now, though, in their shared apartment, together (the only way they really know how to be, at this point), the future doesn't seem so daunting.

In fact, it's never been so easy to look straight ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yee yee


End file.
